Smoke Games
by Palaemona
Summary: Sirius eyed him slowly before rolling up the sleeves of his robe. Numerous scars lined his wrists, faded with age. "It's not much of a game anymore."


**Smoke Games**

**.**

He leaned against the shadowed wall, lips twisting into a scowl. "Fucking bullshit."

Regulus sighed before turning to Sirius. "Get over it."

"Fuck off," Sirius demanded, pulling out a cigarette. He lit it with his wand, and took a long drag off it.

"Since when do you smoke?" His eyes widened a slight fraction, disgusted with the actions of his brother. "It's so… Muggle."

"I got bored and decided I was going to try out smoking." Sirius shrugged, kicking his heel into the wall he was leaning on. All around him were the silenced portraits of the Blacks, all eying him with loathing. He stuck his tongue out at them, smirking at their outraged.

Regulus began to lean on the other wall, sliding down to the floor. Light slipped through the windows, dimming from the setting sun. "Shouldn't do that. They'll tell Mother and Father."

Sirius gave a dull laugh. "And then what? Father dearest will cane me some more? They'll disown me? You have to do better than that, brother of mine."

"You make it seem like it isn't a big deal."

"It isn't." His words were dry. "After a while, it stops hurting. And then you find new ways to make it hurt."

Regulus glared at him. "So that's you game now? Forcing yourself to go numb?"

Sirius eyed him slowly before rolling up the sleeves of his robe. Numerous scars lined his wrists, faded with age. "It's not much of a game anymore."

They gave into heavy silence.

Wisps of smoke clung to the boys hours later.

…

"You should get out."

"Is that a threat?" Sirius looked up to Regulus from where he was splayed out over his bed. Glistening paste was rubbed over the wicked cut on his forehead, slowly healing the injury.

Regulus ignored Sirius. "He did that with his cane didn't he?" His breath was heavy with smoke, soaking into his skin.

"You're smoking now, aren't you? Don't I feel like the bloody good example?" Sirius flipped through a page, a woman with angry eyes leered up at him. "Unless you got a cigarette to share, get the fucking hell out."

Tossing the pack over, Regulus stalked further into the room. He carefully stepped around the several robes spilled over the floor as well as the blood stain.

"You're killing yourself here."

"No. Last time I checked I was still breathing and living and taking up my existence in these hallowed halls."

Regulus stood before Sirius, hands balled into tight fists. "Why won't you just get the fuck out? Go with Potter, or the wolf. Just get out before he kills you." Smoke whirled around the two, screening them away from the world.

Sighing heavily, Sirius tossed the magazine under his bed. "If I leave, who will he beat the life out of?"

The answer went unspoken.

...

At Hogwarts, life is slower.

Sirius's back heals with the aid of Potter using multiple oils and potions to remove the welts. Regulus sinks further into the darkness, snakes clinging to his soul.

"You seem happy." His words are bitter as he scrubs the floor, bristles scratching away at potion spills.

Sirius isn't fazed despite the bruise he sports on his skull. "As happy as I ever am when your merry gang of bastards jump me from behind. Thought you had a little more self-respect."

He spits his words out resentfully. "I didn't want to do that."

"But you did. That's just the kicker, isn't it?" There's a rage burning within his dark eyes, unquenched by the years of suffering.

"You've done it to Severus. Malfoy to." Ganged up on him and took him from behind."

Sirius scoffs. "I like to think there is a little thing called family love. Or affection. Or mutual respect. Or whatever the fuck you want to call it."

"Whatever."

"You ever do that to me again, I'll rip your throat out."

"Whatever."

"Got any cigarettes?"

…

"Fucking Death Eater," Sirius has his wand to his face, a curse building on his lips.

"What's it matter to you?" Regulus smirks freely, waving his forearm at him. A lone cigarette dangles from his fingertips.

Sirius swallows. "Everything I suffered was for you to get the fucking hell out of this place. But you just drove yourself down deeper in it."

"I just picked a side."

"The wrong side."

He smiled. "No, I made my choice."

"You'll die for it in the end." Sirius spat, snapping his brother's wand.

"We all do."

…

He leaves, stepping out freely.

Blood drenches his back, but he yanks at his trunk bitterly. A shadow of a boy hides behind a window, watching.

"You should have left a long time ago," Regulus whispered, his hand whispering over the glass.

A box of cigarettes hits the ground, spilling open.

"Now it's my turn."


End file.
